


If i asked you first, would you be my prince?

by Createdforyou, isaksliveterna



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Ballet AU, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, M/M, POV Robbe, childhood flashbacks, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:41:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28829823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Createdforyou/pseuds/Createdforyou, https://archiveofourown.org/users/isaksliveterna/pseuds/isaksliveterna
Summary: Robbe and Sander are ballet dancers in their last year of ballet school and are both part of the same ballet company. They used to be childhood friends but the fierce competition for roles caused them to drift apart to a point where they can't stand each other.
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Comments: 30
Kudos: 46





	1. Robbe - when i look into your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> guess who's backkkkkkk??? lol so sarah and I wanted to write something together again and we just loveeee writing dancers (LOL) so here we are, bringing ballet sander x robbe to you.

_ They say that dancing is an extension of yourself. That dancing with your body is one thing and dancing with the heart is another. It’s five am sunrises and worn out soles, bent knees and precise angles, it’s strength and agility, a certain balance and technique. If this is your life’s work, your life’s passion, why not put your all into it?  _

_ But to dance by your lonesome, without anyone else, is never really enough though, is it? A pas de deux– a dance between two people– can make that loneliness disappear. Extending yourself with another is a synergy that flows, a massive release of emotions to share, and a joy that’s sometimes hard to contain.  _

_ And the connection that’s created between two people… _

_ Well, if a connection can be found, your feet know no bounds. But neither does your heart.  _

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

The door clicked open and creaked behind him, snapping him back to reality. Through the mirror Robbe saw Yasmina, a good friend, walking in as she gave him a wave. Her cheeks were flushed against the black hijab she wore contrasting her skin and her maroon-painted lips. 

“Hello! Are you ready?” she smiled at him.

He looked in her direction, his dark curls falling back into place, mid-turn. He turned on his heel and stepped towards her. Nodding, Robbe said, “Hey, Yasmina! Let’s do this!” He’s trying to mentally prepare for what’s to come. “Do you mind sitting on the floor?”

“Not at all,” she said as she plopped down on the floor next to him. 

Sitting beside her, his white tights expanding with the movement, he shook out his hair and blew out a breath. He was nervous for this, not really knowing what to expect; it’s his first interview for the company and he knows it’ll be printed for magazines and the company’s brochure for their next ballet coming up at the end of the year. The thought was almost nauseating. Exciting, but nauseating. 

“So, I’m sorry for the boring question, but I have to ask, how did you get into dance?”

He’d been expecting this one. And he had definitely  _ not _ been planning a response already.

He laughed. “That’s ok, I knew it was coming, don’t worry about it.”

She grinned at him as he continued. “I started really young, around five I think. I started going to classes several times a week after school and I just really enjoyed it. It became the place where I could lose myself and be one hundred percent myself at the same time. That’s where I met Sander, who, I don’t know if you know him–” Yasmina nodded. She did know who Sander was, how could she not? 

Robbe acknowledged her reaction and continued. “–he’s also in the dance company actually. We became quite close and moved up in the classes together. He was probably my best friend at one point.”

Yasmina nodded as she looked down at her notes. “The company is putting on Swan Lake which opens in November and will play into the New Year. Without giving away too much, what do you think about the people you’re working with the most?”

“Obviously, I’m surrounded by incredible dancers so that has been so amazing to be a part of everyday. But I guess, there is one person I have a lot of dances with, and, you know, they’re alright. We kind of butt heads a lot and, to be honest, I think I’m slightly better.” 

Yasmina chuckles at that. 

“So, who would be your inspiration, since you’re _so_ great?” she teased. 

Robbe’s smile lines formed across his cheeks. “Well, my inspiration is probably what any dancer’s inspiration is. All the famous dancers. Like Sergei Polunin, he was the youngest dancer at the Royal Ballet of London, the youngest ever there!” 

His eyes lit up as he kept talking. “Then there’s Rudolf Nureyev, he was in a pas de trois for Swan Lake, that was actually his debut. Carlos Acosta, with a wonderful story, there’s so many more, I could go on forever.”

“Wow, those are great dancers. You also said Sander  _ was _ your best friend. Can I ask what happened? You don’t have to answer if you don’t feel comfortable to.” She gave him a soft, reassuring smile to demonstrate the accommodating and relaxing aura she was radiating. 

“So, Sander and I were at the same level which meant, as we got older, we started to actually compete more and more with each other for solos and leads.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “To be honest, that kind of drove us apart.” 

He stopped and didn’t look like he wanted to elaborate any further about his and Sander’s relations. Thankfully, Yasmina got the hint and moved on. 

_ However, just because it drove them apart, it didn’t mean that Sander couldn’t be an inspiration to Robbe. He had left him out in the previous question but Robbe couldn’t deny it. He only ever saw one dancer in front of him that he could never replicate the movements of. Saw the way his body moved gracefully and precisely. He envied him for his technique if not his heart in the dance and he really couldn’t get the sour taste in his mouth out. Like something had spoiled and rotted, his chest wrenching at the way he wanted to be like him. It didn’t matter, though. Robbe strived to be better. And better he would be.  _

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

_ When Robbe was five, he was just a tad bit shy. His mama had dropped him off on his first day of dance class and he was left at the entrance of the classroom door and stared in at all the other boys. As the teacher ushered him in with the rest of them, he tried not to let his eyes water at how scary the other kids looked.  _

_ “You’ll make friends, Robbe,” his mama had said. “You’ll dance beautifully, my angel,” she ran her fingers through his messy curls, combing them neatly into place.  _

_ Robbe wasn’t so sure about that. But once he’d walked in and the dancing had started, he couldn’t stop himself from getting lost in the feeling of the music. The teacher had actually called him out at this point, using him as an example. At first Robbe was shaken at the sound of his name, but Miss. Josefine told him how brilliantly he moved at such a young age and told all the others to try to dance just like him. He’d felt quite proud, an enormous glow throughout him for such a tiny body, but all that had gone away as soon as he saw a boy with brown hair glaring at him.  _

_ “You think you’re such a better dancer?” he sneered at him. Robbe didn’t know how to respond. He just stared back at him.  _

_ “No,” he finally replied.  _

_ “Well, I’m older than you, I’m six years old.  _ I’m  _ gonna be the better dancer here,” he said, pointing his thumb inwardly to his chest and lifting his head proudly.  _

_ “Okay,” Robbe squeaked. He wasn’t really sure what this boy was trying to get at. Robbe wasn’t here to be better than anyone but himself. He just wanted to dance.  _

_ He saw the boy stare at him for a really long time, squinting his eyes and crossing his arms. His face was flushed pink and his mouth was pulled in a tight line. Then, he finally huffed when Robbe didn’t seem to be interested in the competition.  _

_ “Okay, then,” he said. “I’m Sander,” he reached out a hand.  _

_ “Robbe,” he shook it.  _

_ “Well, Robbe, do you wanna be friends?” he asked him, his green eyes shining like the sun now. Confused and dazed, Robbe looked at him. One minute he was being absolutely intimidating and the next he was wanting to be friends? He didn’t care though, the other kids weren’t going to like him that much either if the teacher kept using him to lead an example. He could definitely use a friend.  _

_ Pretty soon in the upcoming months, Sander and Robbe had become inseparable. It was like they were attached at the hip and nothing could bring them apart. They’d become really good at dancing with each other as Miss. Josefine assigned them often as partners each time due to their ability to move together. Both of them were technically skilled and quickly learned higher leveled routines and steps.  _

_ “You gotta do it like this, Robbe,” Sander showed him the step. It was a grand plie where he had to bend his knees fully while moving his heels up. He started in first position which meant his heels were together with his toes outward to the side and then moved straight down, bending his knees. He moved his arms and legs slowly so Robbe could follow. He watched him carefully, then tried to imitate him. Sander came closer to him and held his arm up higher and then pushed in on his back to keep him straight.. “Like this,” he said.  _

_ “Okay,” Robbe said, nodding, thinking he finally got the moves down. “Do you want me to show you the other one Miss. Josefine told us to work on?” _

_ “Yeah, I don’t know how to do that one.” said Sander.  _

_ So, Robbe stepped a little further for space and started showing him the step. It was a tendus which was just a stretch extending one leg across the floor to the front of the body.  _

_ “Miss. Josefine said your knees have to be straight while you stretch. Like this,” he said.  _

_ Sander watched him and imitated the movement while Robbe smiled at him.  _

_ “You’re a really good dancer,” he giggled.  _

_ “You, too,” Sander smiled back at him.  _

_ And not only have they been helping each other through the dances, they’d also become closer and closer, getting to know one another outside of dance. _

_ “What’s your favourite food? You never told me,” asked Robbe one day as they sat outside against a tree.  _

_ The cool breeze flowed through their t-shirts and the leaves from above shielded them from the sun. Sander sat there ripping out pieces of grass as their parents sat on a bench close by, keeping an eye on them.  _

_ “Um...I don’t think I have a favourite food,” he said. “My mom makes croques every Sunday. I like those!” _

_ “That’s nice. I like lasagna.” _

_ “Do your parents make lasagna every weekend?” Sander asked him, twisting grass between his fingers. _

_ Robbe looked out into the park where his mother sat, her hair done up, her makeup brilliantly applied, the lace of her heel unfortunately un-clasped. He blinked twice before answering. _

_ “Not really,” he said. “We don’t have any traditions or things we do.” _

Traditions.  _ It was a big word and Robbe wondered if Sander would know what it meant. But he saw his fingers stop twisting. He seemed to know what it meant and seemed to notice the neutrality to his tone, the hint of underlying sadness. He left the piece of grass and reached out to take his hand.  _

_ “Let’s make our own then,” he smiled at him. And Robbe couldn’t help staring at him in a wonderful daze that this boy right here wanted to do something with him other than dance. That he was ready to create memories with him, bonding them together. _

_ “Okay,” Robbe smiled back at him.  _

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

Three weeks before. 

Three weeks before that interview with Yasmina. Three weeks before Robbe knew what production the company would be putting on and holding auditions for it very soon. 

Three weeks before, Robbe found himself also talking to Yasmina, but it was a casual conversation. Though she was a journalism major at the university across town, she was doing an internship with Opera Ballet Vlaanderen, Robbe’s ballet company which had ties with the school he was attending in his final year, the place where they currently were. Yasmina had applied because she had many friends who were also part of the company and Robbe could not have been more pleased when she actually got it. They would regularly meet up after Yasmina passed by for meetings or presentations. 

Today they had been talking for over an hour during Robbe’s lunch break where they had migrated from the cafeteria to a small studio on the upper floor so Robbe could get some stretching and light practice in before his next class. He would stand at the barre and look out at Yasmina. That’s how they chatted and caught up with each other’s lives. 

“Okay, I’ve got to head out. I’ve got class soon. Lovely chatting with you.” Yasmina said as she stood up and picked up her bag. 

He nodded, not saying much except for, “That’s okay. it was nice seeing you!” He looked at the clock on the wall. It was nearly time for his repertoire afternoon class. Repertoire was Robbe’s favourite class because of all the different parts of classical ballets they learned. Everything from solos in well known pieces, to duets and corps dances in modern contemporary ballets. “Just let me know the next time that works for you.”

She gave him a nod and was out the door. 

He put on his headphones and started to play music and he gathered his things. Making sure to get the lights on his way out, left the little studio and made his way down the hall to where his class was going to be held. He didn’t pay attention to anyone else around him, just emerging himself with his music and trying not to think too much 

He was one of the first to arrive at the bigger class studio and found his usual place at the barre and started to warm up. Slowly, the rest of his cohort quickly filed in and all of them started to do their own warm ups. The room was filled with soft murmuring until the back door was thrown open louder than usual and two people entered, arguing quite loudly with each other. Everyone, including Robbe, turned to look at the sudden disturbance and right there and then, his stomach dropped at the sight of them. 


	2. Sander - there’s a danger inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Auditions are announced and Sander has to deal with people he would much rather avoid altogether. Frustrations and stress build up in the process. Who knew ballet could be so stressful when it looks so relaxing and peaceful when accompanied with classical music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! We’re so sorry we left this for a month :(( motivation was hard on us and we had other things too (Sarah’s volleyball AU and my fake dating AU haha) but pls enjoy a sander POV of the next part of this fic!!! It’s longer than the first chapter bc we finally getting somewhere so hopefully that makes up for the horrifically long wait.

_In a kingdom far away lived a prince. He was just like any other prince, handsome and regal, and he had to learn princely things, just like any other prince. Reading, writing, manners, politics, and hunting,_ especially _hunting. The king had_ insisted _that he practice hunting. He was quite good at it he found, his target and aim better than what most would consider average. He thought it enjoyable at that point, chasing the high of catching his next target. So, he found himself escaping into the woods from time to time to practice his new skill._

_And there, one day, the prince saw a beautiful man._

_He couldn’t look away, for he was absolutely stricken by his beauty. Brown locks gleaming in the moonlight and deep brown eyes radiating warmth, a lean yet muscular stature in his vest and tunic. His features were both soft and sharp, the curves of his eyebrows innocent and the curves of his nose pointed, like the beak of a bird._

_The prince did not move as their eyes locked for a brief second. His throat became dry and he licked his lips before speaking._

_“Who are you?”_

_The man did not answer him for some time until he broke out into a smile, his eyes crinkling._

_“Whoever you want me to be,” he said._

_“That’s not an answer,” the prince retorted._

_“Who are_ you?”

_“I’m... “ he deliberated before telling him. “I’m a prince from the kingdom,” he told him._

_Their eyes lingered for a little longer before the man let out a slight laugh. “I’m Arlo.”_

_He tore away from his gaze now and started walking and the prince, enamoured by him, couldn’t help following him. Arlo tread through the dirt, lifting branches and leaves until they came near a lake. It was filled with shimmering water glowing under the huge, full moon, distorted by the faintest of ripples created by the gentle night breeze._

_“It’s beautiful,” the prince breathed out. He didn’t want to say,_ just like you.

_“Beautiful to you maybe.” Arlo looked down at the water bitterly. The prince didn’t understand the change in tone._

_“Beauty is subjective, yes. But even you can admit this place is refreshing in both beauty and atmosphere,” said the prince._

_“This place only seems like it on the surface. In reality it’s nothing like that.”_

_“Then why did you bring me here?” the prince scrunched his eyebrows together._

_“I didn’t, you followed me here,” the man snapped. And this made the prince absolutely fueled with fire. He had just met this man and curiosity had coursed through his veins. That’s why he came here with him. That’s all._

_“Well,” he huffed as he slung his bag of arrows around him. “I’ll leave then,” he said, swiftly turning on his heel to walk the other way. He had been so caught up in his frustration, he almost didn’t hear the man behind him tell him one last thing._

_“I still don’t know your name!” called out Arlo. The prince stopped in his tracks. “Prince isn’t really a name.” He was sure to emphasize ‘prince.’_

_He turned around. So_ Arlo _was just as intrigued in him as he was of him. “I’m Prince Erion.”_

_“Well, Prince Erion,” he did a shallow bow, throwing his arms out to either side, a bow worthy of mocking the royalty. “If you ever find yourself here again,” Arlo said begrudgingly, and Erion’s fingers gripping the handle of his bag, his head turned the slightest degree toward him. His eyes refused to meet him, but he sought out Arlo’s softened tone, “Come find me.”_

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

He was slowly making his way down the hall, head hunched as he looked down at his phone, paying little attention to the people bustling around him, when he was rudely brought back to the ground by someone violently tugging at his white sleeve. He knew who this was. Rolling his eyes and not completely removing his headphones, just one ear to hear this conversation is going to be enough, he turned to look at her. 

Britt. Of course. 

She was in her ballet attire, elegantly dressed in black, her hair tied up perfectly in a blonde bun. She eagerly looked up at him. “Hey Sander! So what do you think the big announcement in class today is going to be?” 

She looked way too excited for him. He just shrugged and continued walking, but Britt didn't leave. She went on, “I think they’re going to announce the new show. It’s about that time of year and since we’ve been part of the company for a year now, I think we can finally get lead roles!” 

He groaned. He should have seen this coming.

And still, Britt kept on talking. “How cool would it be if you and I got the leads together?” she said hopefully. 

“Honestly,” he just can’t stand her anymore, “I could think of nothing worse.” 

She gaped at him. “What do you mean? We’re, like, the two best soloists of our year!”

Sander grunted as he opened the door to the studio where their class was held a little harder than he would've liked. 

Everyone turned to look at them but that didn’t stop Britt from continuing, “I don’t get it Sander, I think we work super well together.”

He waved her off, throwing his bag down next to the place on the barre that was usually his, and she finally admitted defeat and walked away to find Zoë and Amber on the other side of the room. Everyone was still looking at him, including Robbe. He ignored them all and started on his own stretches.

A few moments, the door opened once more and the two company choreographers walked in. They went to stand in front of the mirrors, facing the class and everyone fell silent.

“Right, today’s class is a little different. We’re not here to do our usual repertoire, but instead make some announcements,” said the first choreographer, Valentino, a tall man with his beard trimmed perfectly, wrinkles around his eyes indicating his aging, experienced soul. “The winter show is going to be an original take of _Swan Lake_ and you all have a chance to audition for lead roles.” 

The second choreographer, a short woman of petite stature and strong core, named Blanca stepped forward to join the conversation, “We are working on the choreography now, but a lot can change depending who the leads are and right now, we are open for anything. It is our goal to make something incredibly unique that this dance company has never done before.” 

Everyone around the room looked at each other with excitement. For most of them, they had all just joined the company in the last year and a half. This moment was one they had all been waiting for. This would be their first ever performance with the Opera Ballet Vlaanderen. It was their time to stand out, to take center stage with solos, to show the world their dance, their passion. 

“So that means, today’s class will be the introduction to the audition dances everyone will be expected to perform,” said Valentino.

Chatter filled the entire room. Everyone was getting very excited and motivated to pay attention in class to properly prepare for auditions. While Sander was surrounded with a rush of exhilarated whispers and sparkling eyes waiting for preparations, he felt an overwhelming need to make sure he strived for perfection to be chosen. That feeling had risen twofold when he caught a certain dark pair of eyes from across the room. Deep browns that engulfed him in raging fire. He could see him standing there in his white shirt and black tights, staring back at him intensely. He wasn’t going to lose to _him_ . If it’s the last thing he did, he was going to get that lead. There’s no way that he would let _Robbe_ of all people throw him off his game. 

But from the look in Robbe’s eyes, he seemed to be silently thinking the exact same thing. 

Sander breathed in trying to shake out the feeling of anger. Right now, he needed _determination_. 

  
  


From that point forward, for the next few days, auditions were the only thing on everyone’s minds. 

_Practice._

_Practice._

_Practice._

_It must be perfect._

_That solo is mine._

_Practice._

And this was going to go on for at least the next two weeks until auditions and roles were announced. Sander wasn’t sure if he was ready to endure all of that for so long. 

But what was perhaps the most annoying to Sander was Britt’s constant presence and nagging. Not the constant talk of _Swan Lake_ this, _Swan Lake_ that. 

_Oh who do you think will get the solo?_

_Who has the best chemistry for the leads?_

(Sander was beginning to really hate the words ‘swan’ and ‘lake.’) But Britt. Britt and her constant pestering about the two of them. 

_Doesn’t this girl get enough?_

And there she was again. Waiting for him by his locker at the end of his men’s class. 

_Oh for fuck’s sake. LEAVE ME ALONE!_

He thought it and didn’t say it but that doesn’t mean he didn’t show it in his expression. Exasperated, he rolled his eyes and tried to ignore her, opening the little door in her face and taking his little sweet time. 

That didn’t stop her. “So I’ve been thinking,”

“That’s new,” he cut her off and mumbled to himself, not really caring if she heard him or not. 

Either she didn’t hear him or pretended not to as she just went on, “I think we should really try to rehearse our dances together and then ask to do our auditions together. I think we could totally do the duet part. That way they can really see our chemistry and how perfect it would be for us to have the leads. I mean, after all, _Swan Lake_ is a romantic ballet. Chemistry between the leads is a _must_.” She emphasised the word with a hand movement. 

Sander held back a scoff and continued to rummage through his things, no longer searching for anything in particular, just desperately not wanting to take part in the conversation happening before him. He tuned her out by thinking how he himself should go about practicing. 

_Maybe Senne would let me use his private studio in his flat for a little bit? Maybe I should just stop by? It has been a while since I’ve spoken to him._

_Yes, let's stop by Senne’s. Hopefully Zoë won’t have the same idea and take the studio first. She always gets priority, that’s annoying._

Britt was looking irritated, brought back to her attention by her snapping in front of him, “Sander! Sander!”

“What?”

“You always do this to me, you always did. Are you even listening to me? I can never get you to listen!”

He’d had enough of this conversation. “Maybe it’s you who’s never listened. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have places to be other than here, with you.” He aggressively picked up his duffel and closed his locker and little harsher than he anticipated and walked away, leaving Britt stunned by what he had just said. 

He texted Senne to announce his arrival within the next hour to which he got an excited looking emoji in response. 

“And he remembers I exist!” is the greeting Sander received when the door opened. 

Surprised at the rapid response (he had only knocked like 2 seconds ago) Sander looked at his friend, standing in a grey shirt and khakis, and smiled. “Hi Senne,” Sander said as they hugged. 

_Wow, it has been a while._

Pulling away, Senne asked, “So, what can I do for you Driesen?” He moved aside, ushering Sander into his space. 

Sander scoffed, “Why do I have to need something to come see you? Maybe I just wanna see my best friend. It’s been a while, haven’t you missed me?” he smirked at him. The teasing could definitely go both ways. 

“Alright, alright, fine. I know you’ve been busy. Heard audition practice started a few days ago. _Swan lake_ , huh?”

“How do you-,” Sander started. 

“This is the part where I remind you that one: I’m dating Zoë who also happens to be in the company, and that two,” he placed a hand to his chest, proudly, “I basically own your ballet company, or rather will own it when my father decides to pass it down. So really I’ve known it was going to be _Swan Lake_ for months!”

Sander rolled his eyes. “Ok, ok I get it, hot shot.” 

Senne couldn’t help but laugh. 

Sander went on, “Ok, maybe I do have a favour to ask, but only because you’re such a good, caring friend, who cares about his own friend’s success as a dancer in his own company.” He batted his eyelashes at Senne, teasing a gentle, loving smile. 

“I knew it! What do you need?” Senne laughed. 

“Can I use your studio? I just really need to get away from everyone, everything is booked and I don’t want random people walking in and disturbing me.” By random people, he most definitely had someone in mind for that. And maybe or maybe not, their name started with the letter B.

Senne, still laughing at how predictable Sander had been, nodded. “Zoë said she’d be out for a group rehearsal with some friends, so it’s all yours!”

_Success! I knew coming to Senne’s was a good idea! Man, Senne is such a great friend._

Sander beamed at him. “Senne, you’re a lifesaver! Have I mentioned how much of a great friend you are and how much I love you?” He over exaggerated his gestures. It was in a teasing way, but also one hundred percent genuine. Senne had always been there for Sander in any way he needed. He just understood him, got him like nobody had ever gotten him before. It probably came from his observant nature, his ability to pick up on the slightest change in mood. 

Senne just shook his head, still laughing. “Do you wanna go up and I could get you started?” he asked, tilting his head towards the stairs. Sander nodded and followed him up. 

It was a spacious studio where the huge windows let in all the natural light and mirrors spread across a wall. The barre was shorter, but Sander could make do with that. He let his duffel bag drop along with his shoulders, sighing heavily. 

_Finally, some quiet._

But quiet also meant his thoughts could finally settle. 

After some stretches and gazing outside the window for far too long, Sander heard footsteps shuffle by the door. He turned around to see Senne standing there keeping a watchful eye on him. Sander didn't do anything for a moment, the tension holding both in the air and in his shoulders once again. 

“What?” he finally asked. His eyes were sharp and suspicious at the way Senne slowly walked towards him, one step after another, an amused look on his face. 

“What’s wrong?” Senne asked. 

Those two words were a heavy question. What’s wrong? _So_ many things. 

“I’m just stressed,” said Sander. 

“I can see that,” Senne chuckled. His eyes were expectant now, looking to him to offer up more. Finally, Sander sighed, crumbling under the weight of his expression. 

“I’m stressed about getting the lead. This isn’t some dumb school competition, Senne, it’s like my career on the line. And I need to put my all into it and I can’t under any circumstances let Robbe have it.”

“Robbe? What does Robbe have to do with this?”

Robbe had _everything_ to do with it. He had just as much of a chance as Sander getting this lead and he just didn’t know what he would do if Robbe got it and he didn’t. His jealousy was coming in with twice the force already and the pang in his chest wasn’t helping with how much he just wanted to prove himself and how much he wanted this. He really, really did want it.

“He’s one of them, Senne. One of the ones I’m competing with, maybe the only one worth competing with,” Sander snapped. 

“And what makes you so sure Robbe will get it?” Senne finally spoke up. 

“I’m not. He _won’t_ ,” said Sander immediately, wanting to shake his thoughts out of his mind. 

He could feel Senne sense his tension. Sense that he was high-strung and frazzled and that a whole lot of steam was just blowing off inside his head. He paced the studio now, staring out into the sky and streets below. He didn’t think he’d be so wound up about this. 

“Sander, I'm sure it’s gonna be fine and you’ll be chosen. You’ve got talent, you’ve got skill. They’d be fucking idiotic to not give it to you,” he heard Senne say. 

He turned back to see the look on his face. It was kind and sincere and he looked like a lot of what he was saying was true. Sander wasn’t so sure about that. But he was grateful for the reassurance all the same. 

“Thanks,” he said, his lips curving into a tiny smile. 

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

Another day spent at the Opera Ballet was another day of enduring everyone around him speak of nothing except this dumb ballet. Ok, _dumb_ might be the wrong word. He loved ballet, don’t get him wrong, but it was coming out of his frustration and stress over the whole ordeal. But seriously, didn’t anyone have anything else to talk about? It just made him more stressed, like he was trapped with no escape. Was it going to be like this once roles were announced in the next few days? Or until when the ballet was in production? Or even worse, up until closing night? If it was, Sander didn’t know if he could handle that. He needed to leave this world once in a while. 

So he did. Ballet wasn’t his only form of creativity. He had his camera, which he used as an excuse to wander around the city, looking for new, unexplored places for his architectural photography. Looking through his viewfinder grounded him. It was just him and what he could see, the spaces around him, their sounds that he could get lost in. Holding his camera between his hands was a way to look at things in a different perspective, the limitations of that small opening. It was another perspective of life in general and the things the world had to offer, often missed by those who don’t stop once in a while to breath. 

So after a very much needed evening walk, he was ready to face the chaos that was the Opera Ballet the next morning, bright and early. Or so he thought. 

He’d, somehow, managed to find a studio that hadn’t been claimed yet near the end of the hallway of individual rehearsal studios. And it stayed like that for all of five minutes. He had only been able to set up his music and start on the first few steps before the door opened. He tried to ignore it but then there was a voice. 

A voice he did not want to deal with right now. He groaned to himself, continuing to perform the steps as he looked at himself in the mirror and not the person standing behind him. 

“Oh good, you found an empty studio for us! That’s great.” It was Britt, of course. Who else would have the nerve to interrupt someone’s practice when they looked so deeply concentrated?

Sander didn’t respond and attempted to continue focusing on the steps. 

_Right arm extends up._

_It arcs around._

_Foot draws forward, bend the knees. Plier._

Britt took a breath as she stepped forward. 

_Ignore her. Ignore her. Ignore her._

_Step. One, two, three._

_Élencer, turn, turn._

_Step. One, tw–_

He thought she might have taken the hint from his non-response, but she continued anyway. 

“I think it’d be good for us to get some practice in together,” she said. 

_Well there goes that._

Sander still hadn’t said anything to her. ‘I think’ this, ‘I think’ that. It was always whatever Britt thinks, wasn’t it? She thought they’d be a great team together, both as a couple and dance partners, and at some point in the past he had believed her, but it had just withered away when she became controlling and obsessed with perfection. Sander wanted perfection, too. But not like that. Not the way she crawled under his skin and made him want to be literally anywhere else. 

“We could start with these sets of steps,” she started again, nearing closer to him. 

“You can start whatever you want,” Sander said quietly, evenly. 

He heard Britt scoff and saw her crossing her arms from the corner of his eye. He sighed, finally looking at her. 

“What makes you think I’m gonna get the lead and that in the same breath _you’re_ gonna get it too?” he asked her. 

“Because we work well together, I thought we’ve established this,” she said, almost immediately, defensively, like even for a second, she might not believe those words herself. But then she saw the look in his eyes and her voice softened. “I _do_ think we work well together.” 

It was Sander’s turn to scoff now. He just shook his head, the sound coming out of his mouth somewhere in between a delirious, bitter laugh and a taunt. He, once again, found he had nothing more to say to her and instead turned away, only one step taken to try to continue his practice. 

_And, on–_

“Do you even want this with me or not?” he heard her call out, her shrill voice echoing in the studio. Sander had had enough. How could she still be this dense?

_Fuck you._

“Or not,” he sneered and walked out of the studio into the hallway, sighing. 

Senne’s probably wasn’t an option today. With auditions being a few days away, Zoë would most definitely be spending all her waking hours outside of class in the private studio and he knew he needed to get some dancing in today. He did want the lead, if not an important part, so he needed to practice. Just not with her. Anyone but her.

He made his way down to the last studio. It was occupied. Just his luck. He peered through the window and to see who it was. Ah fuck. Why _him_ ? He needed to practice. Just not with her and not with _him_. 

He threw his head back, sighing to himself while considering his options. 

_Welp,_ he’s _better than Britt. He at least can be silent._ She _cannot shut her mouth. Ever._

So really, he didn’t have a choice if he wanted to go over his routine again. It didn’t hurt to ask. Maybe he wouldn’t want someone else in the room with him and that would just solve all of Sander’s problems. 

He quietly opened the door. Music from inside the studio engulfed him, transporting him into the routine. He knew this part well. He stood and watched Robbe from behind who hadn’t noticed Sander’s presence yet. He, too, was lost in the dance and the classical music. He was focused on himself in the mirror, making sure his extensions were straight, posture perfect and graceful.

_How can he be this graceful? It’s literally unfair._

_He still looks like that._

_Fuck you, Robbe._

Watching him was strangely soothing, though. It reminded Sander of times long past. It was almost–

He shook his head to bring himself back to where he was now, watching Robbe because he just desperately needed a studio to practice. 

He cleared his throat. Taken aback, Robbe spun around, finally noticing the intrusion.

“Can I help you? I’m a little busy right now.” He looked annoyed at the disturbance. 

_Oh fuck. He noticed me._

_Well, of course, he did you dumbass, you made sounds! That usually draws attention to you._

_I’m an idiot._

_This was a bad idea._

“Sorry, I was just wondering if you minded that we shared the studio? I’ll just go with whatever music you want. I just want to practice and everywhere else is full.” Sander didn’t mention the studio that he had claimed had been taken over by force. And now that he thought of it, why would Robbe be gracious enough to let him practice with him. They were technically going for the same parts. 

_He’s never going to say yes._

_Why did I think this was a good idea?_

_I’m actually an idiot._

With Sander practicing less, that gave Robbe a better chance. Wow, he had not thought this through. He realised how stupid he was for even considering this in the first place. Robbe would never agre–

“You...want to share a studio with _me_?” 

_Well he didn’t say no..._

Sander didn’t really know what to say to that. He didn’t want to share the studio with him, but he was all he got, so yes he did want to share the studio with him.

“Look, I can maybe try to find someplace else, but like I said all the others are filled ,” - that was a lie, he couldn’t find someplace else- “Just let me know if I can share or not,” he said. For a moment, it was quiet and he thought Robbe would just ignore him. 

_He’s going to say no. He definitely is going to say no._

_I should have seen this coming._

But Robbe did speak up, surprising Sander. “Yeah sure, whatever,” Robbe shrugged and he shuffled out from the center of the room, giving Sander more space.

_Hold up._

_WHAT?_

_Did he just–_

“Just stay on that side.” Robbe gestured to what was now Sander’s half of the room. 

Sander lost the grip he had on the door and awkwardly stumbled into the room. He had not been expecting that. 

_Fuck._

_I tripped._

“Not so graceful for a ballet dancer are you,” Robbe snided.

Sander just frowned and glared at him not knowing what to respond to _that_. Robbe had already turned away to restart the music. Sander quickly threw his things against the back wall to start the dance again.

 _Oh shit. Now I actually have to dance_ next _to him._

_What if he just laughs at me because he knows he’s better than me?_

_No._

_He’s not better than me. I am the one getting that lead. Not him. It’s going to be me. This is what I came here to do. To practice, to make sure I’m the one getting the lead._

“I’m just going to start the opening dance again,” Robbe said as he scrolled through his phone for the music. 

Sander nodded, before realising that Robbe was not looking at him, “Ok, that’s fine,” he stumbled out.

It was weird they hadn’t ripped each other apart just yet, but Sander thought they had time for that soon enough. It wasn’t ideal dancing in the same room as your competition, but Sander just needed to get through this. 

After two weeks of non-stop practicing, both in lessons and on his own or with his group of classmates after hours, Sander knew all the dances. Now, it was just a matter of perfecting them. Precise movement, graceful holds, strong balance and core rotations. It all needed to flow together flawlessly. It was starting to get there. He tried not to look at Robbe as they both danced. But he couldn’t help peaking over at him in the mirror.

_Fuck. He’s even better up close._

_The routine is literally perfect._

_He always did have better extensions than me._

_No. Sander, focus on you. Who cares about Robbe? He’s not the one about to get the lead! You are!_

_What are_ you _meant to be working on right now?_

He needed to focus on conveying the emotions of it all, the opening piece to the ballet. The part where the two leads met for the first time and there was instantly a connection. A connection that was a little rough around the edges at first, but still a powerful one that brought together the entire story. 

What was Prince Erion’s emotions when he first laid eyes on the beautiful swan? Love? No, it was too early for that. 

_Well curiosity maybe? Why is the swan there in the middle of the forest? Yea, yea, curiosity. The Prince is interested in the swan and where they come from._

_Now how do I show that?_

Sander loved this part of ballet. The part where the dancer had to show, rather than feel, what they were feeling. Words never seemed to be enough. Actions and expressions could define all the nuances of emotions. 

He decided that his movements should have the slightest hesitation as he approaches the other dancer, whoever that may be in the end. There should be a build up, graceful, but the Prince wouldn’t be so forthcoming in his thoughts just yet. After all, this person was a mystery and the entire ballet was a chance to really get to know them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! Another special thank you to Aaf, the broerrcos and anyone else excited for this AU! We have most of this fic planned (like major plot points, hence if you saw on sarah’s tumblr the post where we ourselves rediscovered our plot and were mind blown by our own genius LOL) but not written so feel free to send us ideas too if you want! Or just theories in general, those are always nice to talk about. We’re sorry about the slow updates haha we’ll try to be better :) we have motivation once again <3  
> Find us on tumblr: tasfia @sonderthroughthestreets  
> sarah @to-enter-polaris

**Author's Note:**

> big thanks to aaf who helped us with developing the story and aaf and everyone else who was just super super excited for it <3  
> come yell at us on tumblr!  
> @to-enter-polaris  
> @sonderthroughthestreets


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